


Politiks

by factual



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: Crossover Pairing, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-21
Updated: 2011-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 04:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factual/pseuds/factual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[funky crossover times] Unfortunately for Kyouya, there is no law of nature to explain attractive geographic and political anthropomorphic personifications of nations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Politiks

*

i.

Tamaki's list of stipulations had a reputation for truly bad results but this time he had really outdone himself. The sad, excusable part wasn't that Tamaki meant to be a complete nuisance—he just turned out that way. Kyouya thought of sitting him down and giving him a very solid and thorough Talk; he was even willing to take him to go see the commoner jellyfish in commoner Kagoshima if that was what it took. Then he thought better and remembered all the times through high school and university when the same instances had occurred and the same solutions issued had failed. His stubborn streak might have been charming in the eyes of eligible heiresses but to Kyouya, it was all a very unprofitable headache.

Nowadays, it was primarily the matter of his bachelorhood that kept Tamaki "shuddering and awake during tumultuous and sleepless nights". Because he could not help it, Tamaki had taken it upon himself to play matchmaker. In doing so, he unconsciously agreed to shave five years off his lifespan.

"Haruhi isn't married either! And you're both very successful, beautiful hip young people! Why don't you marry her?" he constantly cried in jubilant repetition, extolling Haruhi's virtues in futile, unwanted attempts. Kyouya's first reaction was to ask if Tamaki knew what the word _hip_ meant.

Instead, he chose to point out that their former school days had consisted ninety-nine percent of the exact opposite sentiment Tamaki was currently expressing. Had he forgotten the ootoro rings and midnight serenades which summoned the police and the weekend trip to Nagoya that ended in food poisoning?

Tamaki stuttered. He still liked her an awful lot and he had vested a large interest in her budding law firm just so he'd have an excuse to see her every week. He'd also insisted that the firm be called Fujioka & Suou because this way they could share at least one partnership of some sort. Haruhi had point-blank rejected the offer, citing legal complications, much to Kyouya's relief.

(Tamaki's wife was a demure little lady who possessed a temper twice her size on matters entirely pointless. She enjoyed cakes, Earl Grey tea, and had been educated in England before returning to Japan to promptly marry the heir she'd heard so much about. On the day of their wedding, Chieko-san tripped in her heels, causing a minor scandal but Tamaki swept her up and kissed her right there and then, to the shock of young pure maidens across Japan. They were frighteningly similar in personality and she too was in on the mission to Get Kyouya Married.)

*

ii.

Logically and practically speaking, it wouldn't have been a bad idea to marry Haruhi. With their combined IQ, their toddler offspring would be sure to know how Sartre's lecture "Existentialism is a Humanism" affected the Communists and the Catholics and whether to integrate or differentiate in order to find the area under a curve.

They commanded a good rapport. In fact, it was Kyouya who'd taken Haruhi to a rare showing of _Erin Brockovich_ at a Tokyo art house during university, when Haruhi suddenly became rather blasé about pursuing a degree in law. He might've even loved her something more than the platonic respect which they currently shared but it just seemed so inconvenient.

Their collective conversations was entirely communicated through intensive group e-mailing during lunch breaks. Hunny provided bunny gifs, Mori moderated, and Tamaki sent hordes of chain mail that was like so 2005. Kyouya wasn't sure what Haruhi thought of the whole affair (or lack thereof) because she chose to reply only occasionally, asking entirely reasonably: "Could you guys tone it down? My inbox is getting flooded." For the twins, the only answer was to kick it up a notch and Haruhi, in return, moved their conversation to her spam folder.

In fact, it was after the twins had dinner with Haruhi one night that they decided to create an account for Kyouya on an online dating site whose domain name will not be revealed. It was essentially the lovechild of eHarmony and Craiglist, meaning half of the profiles belonged to AV stars and the other half to Japanese middle-aged married salarymen who weren't _really_ married and who really _did_ own a yacht, two Bentleys and a Maserati, and a vacation home in Bora Bora.

Within the hour, Kyouya's profile had been viewed thousands of times and he had received five hundred and sixty-eight offers. Two weeks later, Hikaru slipped up and there was no choice but for Kaoru to remedy the damage that'd been done. The three of them checked out the potential mates and Kyouya had the dubious honor of turning them all down.

"I think I'm considering retracting my end of the lucrative deal we'd made a week ago," he politely said when the business had been done. "It's such a shame because your mother has been in such high spirits because of the prospect of our future partnership, don't you think?"

Hikaru gulped. "Y-yeah?"

"I'm always amenable to compromise, as you both know very well, but I shouldn't wonder if tomorrow came and there is zero press coverage of the Hitachiin-Ohtori overseas expansion deal. News can be very fickle, don't you think?"

"Oh—"

" _Fuck_ ," spat out Kaoru, and shot a glare at his brother, who offered a forced grimace. Hikaru's head was down and his brother knew who he was itching to call.

"I shouldn't wonder," said Kyouya much too serenely, and smiled.

*

iii.

This year's European tour of offices and conferences would begin in Vienna, which Kyouya was actually grateful for. Flying direct to Paris had its downsides and he wasn't prepared to deal with Anne-Sophie's kindly, but direct interrogation if he had yet to find a girlfriend.

Anyway, Tamaki's stipulations (which he'd tried to hide under the commoner-influenced title of _New Years Resolutions_ ) included _taking time for yourself by relaxing!!!_ —he really did use three exclamation points. The Vienna Philharmonic was performing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E Minor and Kyouya had purchased a box seat equivalent to the price of an American family's four-day stay at the Disney Resort in Anaheim. Well, that would certainly ease some of Tamaki's unnecessary anxiety which he knew would never disappear until he was married with two children.

"One isn't enough?" Kyouya had asked, eyebrow arched.

"Heavens no! It's all about balance, really. If you have one you must have another so they can support each other. _Why_ ," and his eyelashes were shining, "what I would have given for a little brother or sister. I'd be the best big brother in the world, yes I would! I see your impassive dark orbs of doubt, Kyouya, but never doubt my genuine heart!"

Siblings, Kyouya personally believed, were overrated entities. They generated competition and jealousy and you always had to make sure to get your serving first lest it get wrested from right under your nose. There were some stories told on the streets of siblings who read fairytales to each other and exchanged help in times of need. Still, he could vaguely accept Tamaki's screwed reasoning and he was about to concede this particular argument when Haruhi cut in:

"With more kids, it'd mean less chores for you."

Tamaki practically demanded domesticity. He also demanded cute godchildren whom he could spoil and lift in the air and spin around and protect from the overachieving wrath of the Low Blood Pressure Demon Lord. He was so insistent with concern for Kyouya that he forgot he already was buying expensive dolls for Hunny's niece and sporting equipment for Satoshi's professional aspirations.

"I think it's slipped his mind that you guys can more than afford these things to begin with," Haruhi noted in a private e-mail conversation.

"He knows," Kyouya had replied. "But Chieko-san cannot conceive and her fertility treatments have been going poorly for three years now. He won't be having his own child."

*

iv.

After the concert ended, he was ushered backstage to meet the guest soloist, tall and thin with a wry smile. He shook Kyouya's hand with a comfortable ease that suggested a wisdom beyond his youthful physical appearance. Kyouya liked him. Though he had his reservations about his German, he was able to converse perfectly with the violinist, a young man by the name of Roderich Edelstein. They spoke only a few minutes before security returned in droves and the two settled on a time and date for a second appointment for further conversation. Second turned to third turned to fourth and two days later Kyouya woke up with the vague recollection that he had left something at Narita airport.

"You forgot something?" said Roderich.

"I'm certain I didn't. I never forget anything."

"I rarely forget my own belongings. It's everything else that's troublesome. I just get lost," he said it as if it were a sacred duty.

"Chauffeur?"

"I shudder to imagine living without one."

Through further discussion, they found out that Edelstein's tour of performance coincidentally coincided with Kyouya's own business. It started in Austria and made stops in Germany and then south to Switzerland before heading west to France. They agreed to travel together purely for pragmatic reasons. Kyouya had been scheduled to take the Eurostar and Roderich had yet to book his tickets. Roderich knew secrets about the cities that even Kyouya didn't know. But Kyouya had a GPS and was capable of any kind of navigation, even nautical. He also had exquisitely expensive tastes, which Roderich found rather amendable. Once, he said that he fell in love with Kyouya for his money and they laughed and neither was entirely sure which part was true and which part was false and it was kind of awkward truth be told but in any case it was lovely (and entirely worth it).

*

v.

What resulted was a delightfully classy and sordid affair. Despite Kyouya's intensive background checks through Interpol, he could find little information about Roderich Edelstein outside of the fact that he was a violinist and he was about twenty-five. Roderich had his own dressing room and if they arrived early they could have tea and crumpets and eat off fingertips and still have enough time to rummage through backstage with a bust of Chopin and a bottle of Mumms between them.

Once, Kyouya stood up on the empty stage to a concert hall that could seat five thousand. It was a feeling he used to know and had partially suppressed. Lifting his arms to play an air violin he could imagine the pieces he used to practice. Then Roderich came up behind him and whispered in his ear and he felt good enough to stop.

He enjoyed listening to Roderich's violin. He liked the fact that Roderich was so clean and particular. They both wore glasses and restrained from smiling unless it was absolutely necessary. Where Kyouya doggedly worked himself to exhaustion, Roderich was just as lax. He wasn't bothersome like Tamaki, but he would say strange things which he would promptly shrug off as slips. (Like referring to countries as people, or proclaiming that he hadn't been so tired since Versailles.) That reminded him of Tamaki as well. They shared similar tastes in food and they agreed that the current generation of the world was doomed to failure and disappointment.

He wasn't married. "I'm divorced, actually," he admitted with a sigh. It was an unexpected allure. "My wife left me when, hm, things weren't going very well. That's an understatement. Things were terrible. I don't blame her but I can't say so obviously. You probably wouldn't understand."

"Try it."

"N-no, it's okay."

"Bad PR?"

"Yes. The very worst."

"Oh. Lawyer?"

"She left me for two dogs and a cad. But we're friends now, for the most part."

Then: "Are you sure?"

And Roderich quickly said: "No no, it's nothing. Nothing at all." Rarely was Kyouya touched by displays of emotional strength, but he sat up and kissed the boy on the cheek and there was such a pillar of gentle brutality which he sensed that he had to go to bathroom and wash his face just to make sure he was still breathing. He disliked the fact that he felt so strongly where there was nothing strong to feel about. Checking his Blackberry while sitting on the closed toilet cover, he wondered what kind of girl Roderich had been married to. He wondered if she too had been unable to conceive.

*

vi.

In Zurich Kyouya attended a business seminar while Roderich played violin at Tonhalle. He rushed down just in time for the concert to end and he was surprised to realize that he was slightly sad from having missed it. "It doesn't matter," Roderich said, "I didn't play it right." But he was lying and the next morning's reviews confirmed just as much. Roderich Edelstein was a genius and he was only twenty-five.

(Roderich liked to remind Kyouya he was only twenty-five while he let Kyouya fuck him and he sounded so much like a martyred lying fool that Kyouya told him to his face. The shades were drawn and the summer was cool because they had the AC turned on and the hotel possessed high-quality technology, this being civilized Switzerland and everything. He clenched this boy's hand into his and wondered if he was actually not a boy at all, but a very old man in a young body. There was no way someone so young could play with such mourning and heartbreak.

"Are you so sure?" Roderich smiled and held Kyouya's face between his callused hands. "I look young don't I?"

"Terribly."

"How old are you? Wait no, let me guess. Twenty-nine."

"Twenty-eight. I'm not married."

"I know. You don't have a ring."

"Some people lie."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

Kyouya was above lying about something so petty as a human physical relationship.

"Then it's okay," said the boy who knew too much, "wouldn't you say.")

*

vii.

Roderich's final gig was at l'Auditorium de Lyon and Kyouya's flight was a redeye. He was dressed in too warm clothes, a coat with a suit underneath, and his fingers were gripped tight on his passport inside his pocket. When Roderich asked if Kyouya was nervous, he said no. When he asked if he was hungry, he said no. When he asked, "Will you miss me?" Kyouya didn't say anything. "Will you miss Zurich and Munich and Vienna?" And he said yes, he was going to miss all of these places and he was going to miss rushing across Saint-Germain-des-Prés for an engagement for tea and trying the Sacher torte at two in the morning just because and going around in circles for hours because Roderich's memory had failed him and he had mixed up the arrondissements and Kyouya had very nearly strangled him.

"Will you remember all that?" he said.

"Yeah," said Kyouya, after a while, "I will."

"Try to remember it very clearly and then no one can take it away from you."

"Oh yes."

"Have you ever said good-bye before?"

"Of course. Come to Japan for a tour. If you'd like, I could very easily arrange something for you. The Suzuki family, do you know them?"

"And I wouldn't just be someone you knew from before? Will you introduce me to your friends and family? Your wife?"

"I've told you, I'm not married."

"Who knows, maybe you'll be by then," Roderich had this look on his face and that was when Kyouya knew. The piano knew something he didn't and Roderich was a bastard and Tamaki was a bastard and they were all conspiring against him, only instead of killing him as Yossarian had thought, they were plotting white and church bells and prenups and it still seemed terribly inconvenient to him. But he didn't want to think about that.

"Oh God," he groaned half-heartedly, "I hope not." Roderich laughed and reached for his hand and they waited together until his gate number was called and all the while Roderich had his foot rested lightly on top of his and Kyouya's heart felt immensely cool and calm.


End file.
